


hang breathless on me

by likewinning



Series: little beasts [16]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, no one in this verse is a nice person move along, traaaash a whole lotta trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You need to learn some manners," Bruce says. "Just because you're working for me doesn't mean you can't say <em>please</em>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	hang breathless on me

Dick doesn’t say anything when Bruce brings the new kid home. He wants to be mad, wants to be _jealous_ , but Jason just walks right up to him, four hundred pounds of confidence in a ninety pound frame, prods him in the chest and says, "Sounds like you’re gonna be showing me the ropes."

"Oh," Dick says, and when he looks at Bruce over Jason’s shoulder, Bruce nods. "Looks like."

Jason grins; his lips are chapped, and when Jason leans in too close Dick doesn’t have to be a goddamn detective to know those are Bruce’s teethmarks on his neck. "You smell like gasoline," Jason says. "I like it."

Dick looks over at Bruce again, but Bruce is looking at _Jason_ , eyes lit up like the prettiest fire Dick’s ever seen. He thinks about pushing the kid to the floor, thinks about telling Bruce _fuck_ if he’s teaching Jason a damn thing, but if Bruce so much looks at Dick like he _means_ jump, Dick’s going to ask how high.

Most of the time, anyway.

 

*

 

"Your boy looks like art," Jason tells Bruce later that night. He has a bandage wrapped around his wrist from where he got a little too friendly with fire – he’ll learn, Bruce figures – and he’s straddling Bruce, dirty jeans slung low on his hips. Bruce showed Jason his room after he and Dick finished for the day, but twenty minutes later Jason climbed into Bruce’s bed cracking some joke about nightmares.

"He’s not," Bruce says. "My boy."

"No?" Jason asks. He runs his hands up Bruce’s chest, stretching out like a cat over him. "Then can I have a go at him?"

Bruce laughs, but it’s a tense, hollow sound and he tightens his grip on Jason’s hips. "You’re welcome to try," he says.

"Mm," Jason says. He tips his head down, scrapes his teeth over Bruce’s pecs, tonguing the skin there.

"Jason," Bruce says. "I already told you, you don’t have to do this. You’re not – I’m not _paying_ you to do that."

"You should," Jason says. "I'm good at it."

Bruce – Bruce _knows_ that. Jason's been with him for two days, two days when he was supposed to be filling Jason in on how things worked, two days he spent with Jason's head buried between his legs, his dick down Jason's throat, his tongue in Jason's ass while Jason whimpered and begged.

"Yes," Bruce agrees. "But if you're going to work for me, it can't – this can't get in the way."

"Man," Jason says. He laughs, reaches down for Bruce's cock and squeezes _hard_. "Are you getting sentimental on me already, B? 'Cause I don't have a heart of gold."

"Neither do I," Bruce says. He grabs Jason by the shoulders, flips them over so Jason's under him, staring up with hungry eyes. 

Jason brings his hand to his mouth and licks it, then starts to work Bruce's cock. "Dick told me how you found him. How he started. Fuck, man, I nearly lost it just thinking about – " Bruce unbuttons Jason's jeans, curls his hand around his cock.

"Tell me," Jason says. "Tell me how you got into this."

Bruce pulls Jason's jeans down, says, "Spread your legs."

"Oh, fuck yeah," Jason says. His face is already flushed, and when Bruce moves down his body Jason brings his hand back up to his mouth, licking the taste of Bruce from his skin.

"When I was a boy," Bruce tells him, "my parents were murdered. Right in front of me. The house was taken from me – everything was taken from me. But I was smart. Resourceful."

Bruce swirls his tongue around the head of Jason's cock, barely touching him. "Yeah?" Jason asks.

"When I was sixteen," Bruce says, "I found my parents' killer. He was nothing, less than that, but he'd taken everything from me. I killed him, and no one said a word. But then I realized – " Bruce cups Jason's balls, runs his thumb over the skin again and again – "Well, two things really. One, that I was good at it. And two –"

"You liked it," Jason finishes for him, breathing the words out with something like reverence.

"Yes," Bruce says.

"Yeah," Jason says. "It's good to do something you love. That's why you're gonna fuck me."

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him and sits up. "Oh, I am? You're very demanding for an employee."

"Yeah," Jason says. He wriggles his hips, trying to get Bruce's mouth back on his cock, trying for anything. "I am. Get used to it."

"Hm," Bruce says. He gets off the bed and starts to walk away, and Jason says, "Where the hell are you _going_?"

"I thought I'd take a shower," Bruce says. "Maybe find something to eat."

"I'm right here. Eat _me_ ," Jason says, and Bruce shivers at the desperation in his voice, the whining _need_ there as his cock spills precome onto his belly.

"You need to learn some manners," Bruce says. "Just because you're working for me doesn't mean you can't say _please_."

"Oh, fu –" Bruce puts his hand over Jason's mouth. He sucks Bruce's fingers into his mouth, staring up at him the whole time, and Bruce feels his resolve weaken.

"Jason," Bruce breathes out. Jason moans around his fingers, reaches down and grabs his dick. He looks so beautiful like this, and Bruce wants to paint him with bruises, wants to tie him to the bed and make him wait _days_ for Bruce to touch him, but –

Maybe another time. Maybe another time, when Bruce isn't aching to get his cock inside of Jason again, aching to make Jason scream and dig his nails into Bruce's skin.

He pulls his hand back, shoves Jason back onto the bed and grabs the lube from his nightstand. He slicks up his fingers, then his dick, slides his fingers into Jason so hard that he _howls_ and bucks up into him.

"Ssh," Bruce says, but he doesn't mean it; he needs Jason's noise, just like he needs to swallow Jason's cock while he gets him ready, like he needs to taste the salt and heat of him until Jason's grabbing at his hair and saying, "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna –"

His come splashes all over Bruce's mouth, drips down his chin, and Jason reaches for him, licks all of it away and scrapes his tongue over Bruce's stubble.

"Bruce," he says. "Fuck me. Please?"

"On your feet," Bruce says, and Jason slides down the bed, knees shaking as he stands. Bruce turns him around, gets one hand on Jason's hips and eases his cock into Jason. He stays like that, one hand over Jason's chest, buried in Jason, until Jason says, "Please," again.

Bruce fucks him so hard the bed rattles, fucks him until he can't tell Jason's shouts from his own, until Jason reaches back for him and squeezes his hips, begs him to go harder, faster, even as sweat drips down their backs.

Everything goes white when he comes – Jason says his name, again and again, and he whines when Bruce pulls out of him, turns him back around and swallows him down until he comes again, trembling and swearing.

"Fuck," Jason says when he gets his breath back. He kicks his jeans the rest of the way off, then lies back flat on the bed, legs still spread and his ribs sticking out. "You sure your calling is offing people, man? 'Cause I think it might be getting people –"

Bruce shuts him up with a kiss, sharp and biting.

"Tomorrow," he says, "you sleep in your own bed."

"Yeah, Bruce," Jason says. "Sure thing."


End file.
